Deception and Dishonesty
by Amare Deansgate
Summary: With the choice of any woman in the cosmos, Darcy finds finds herself both horrified and flattered when Loki, brother of Thor, God of Mischief, begins to court her. However, danger lies behind even dancing with the devil, as she finds herself running from her own past when it rears it's ugly head.
1. Prologue

A/N: Nothing in the Marvelverse belongs to me. I am a mere story-teller, telling tales told by other story-tellers, but in a different kind of... just read, I'm upsetting myself...

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Could anyone describe this pain? The shear hurt that ripples through and tears everything apart starting from the heart.

It's an anguish of being led into something that didn't mean anything in the first place.

A lover with false promises of security and pretenses of being together forever, that's all she received from being with him. And now it is, what she hopes, his turn to feel this throbbing grief of lonesomeness.

He paid no attention to her agony. He only ever paid attention to how she presented herself when they were in public eye. She's grown drained from living this lie.

She misses her friends. He took her away from everything she ever treasured and mistreated her. Mentally at first, words like "worthless" and "tramp" where only the beginning of his cruelty. Once he turned to actually harming her physically, she made a point of not getting in his way when he was upset, making sure she did everything perfectly. Maybe she was doing something wrong.

But when she noticed that the assaults still didn't stop, she gave up. Whether or not she became tired or lazy, she doesn't know. All that she can think about is about the fact that his hands feel cold and harsh on her pale skin. Bruises seem to be the last thing on her mind when she goes out and people glance skeptically at her.

She wants to leave. If she could kill him or run she definitely would, but he's much stronger than her, he would kill her before she could even get the chance to pick up a knife.

She sits up slowly, making sure the bed doesn't stir too much and reaches over toward her nightstand. When she tugs at the drawer, the wood composes a whining noise almost like a cry to awaken her husband.

She looks over quickly to see if he's awake already, but he only stirs a little. She turns back around and says a silent prayer that the drawer would just stay silent. As she pulls again the drawer makes the same noise, but much more hushed. She decides it's not enough to wake him and proceeds.

She grabs an old heavy box and slowly slides it out and away from the table. She opens it to see in the moonlight that her rings are still there. Not the rings she'd received from him, no. She was handed them by her mother on her wedding day. "Something old", she smiled at the memory of her mother's voice. Of course now she wouldn't take them out in front of her husband, but her mother gave her this blue box to keep them in the day of her wedding. She was told her that their family- her adopted mother's family- used it for generations and it had a compartment in it that could be used for safe-keeping.

She slowly takes out the rings and gently places them on the nightstand. She stares at them for a few seconds before going back to the task at hand.

She slides away the bottom of the box to find the other section hiding her newly placed item.

She withdraws the large metal object and sets it. Effectively causing a sharp sound to echo throughout the bedroom. Now she needs to be quick. She turns the object around so that it's facing her and brings it up to her temple.

She'd thought long and hard about this. She doesn't feel tears well up in her eyes as they usually do when she's afraid. She'd given her life to this man, and now she that she knows he can't control her anymore, an almost mad smile tugs at the side of her mouth as she pulls the trigger.

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A/N: Hello all, and thank you for reading.

First of all, this may seem kind of off at the moment, but everything's much clearer in the next chapter, which should be out by Monday, if people review telling me what they feel about it. It's a Darcy/Loki fic, really angsty and really dark, but it's not as dark as this first chapter, not at all. *cough*

Okay, I think I'm done rambling, so please proceed... with whatever you were going to do. Be it reviewing, or saying "pfft" and going on to do whatever you want, that's fine. I'll shut up now.


	2. The Recovery

A/N: Hi. My name's Amare Deansgate, and I written this chapter over about sixty times. call me if you want the AU's to my AU, okay? No seriously, I'm very sorry about my tardiness, and I have no excuse. As an apology, I'm posting this today and the next (much longer) chapter Friday. Please enjoy.

Disclaimer: Nothing in the Marvel-verse belongs to me.

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There is blood on the pillow. As crimson and violent as the act that caused it. Her belief that she would be free wasn't enough to finish the deed, however. There is a numbness that she's never felt before when she sees his eyes looking down at her.

When she is in the hospital later, they tell her she's lucky. The bullet grazed her skull and left a scar, but she would survive. She doesn't feel she's survived. She's been dead for a long time.

After a few weeks, she's moved to the psychiatric unit of the hospital. For the first week, she stood in the mirror looking at the healing wound on the side of her head. She thought she felt nothing at first. But soon she wakes up in the middle of the night screaming and crying. The nurses and doctors put her into an isolated room and sedate her countless times a week.

One morning, long after she thinks she'll be here forever, a nurse walks into her room with a bright smile.

"Darcy," she says. "I have some good news."

Darcy brings her eyes slowly up to the nurse.

"You'll be going home on Monday. Your doctor said that you'll be starting outpatient care soon."

The effort to smile is too much. She nods and turns back to look at the rain hit the window.

When the nurse leaves, Darcy curls her legs up to her chest. Her hair had grown over the scar, but she can still feel the long bump under her scalp.

The feeling overtakes her. She can leave now; start anew. Something akin to relief is swept through her. All she has to do is forget. Forget her past with him.

If only it were that easy.

...

It's almost three years pass after being released that Darcy is able to start her life again. She starts college,majoring in political science, and is no longer eager to please others. Even if she is unable to completely tune out of her nightmares, she smiles more and is able to see that she stays focused on school.

The past seems like another life altogether. And instead of making her bitter, it's made her better. She almost wants to thank him.

The wind blows fiercely against the curtains of the open window of her dorm room. It brings with it a scent of the autumnal spices of the dormitory's Halloween party. The room, almost an uncomfortable cold to most, felt claustrophobic and dense. She sits on the edge of her bed, fighting away the invisible monsters in her head.

She doesn't know where he is now. When she was still in the hospital, papers were sent to her. Legal papers telling her she was no longer married on grounds of insanity.

Here, though, no one knows of that ugly past. They know her as vivacious, featherbrained, and even downright childish. But never broken; never agonized.

It's funny, though, when one is left alone with the thoughts in their head that tells them the reality of their own world it feels a bit like home. Poison caught her heart long ago and mangled it until all she has is an empty cavity in her chest. It hurts everyday to think she once felt something as sweet and wrong as love.

Right now she can't find the energy to go to sleep. The room feels as though it lives and whispers with it's hot breath into her ear. It's his voice, when he was sweet and kind and gentle and lovely.

She feels her skin grow uncomfortable as though it weren't meant for her own body. Running her hand on her arm, she feels gooseflesh as if thousands of invisible tiny strings tried to pull her like a puppet.

She's knows she's still young. She was very young even when she met him. Just starting college on a scholarship, and not caring an ounce about where she might be headed. Then he came; his promises feather-light and his tongue like silver.

She feels everything and nothing for him. Like she can fall in love with him again and kill him in cold blood in the same instant. Her chest is on fire. She needs sleep. But there are more hours of wakeful turning to deal with before she is finally able to lay peacefully.

In the morning she walks into her first class of the day; playing the part of clueless student. She sits in the back even though it is her favorite course. When everyone is dismissed, her professor, Dr. Allen, calls her over.

She walks over to him, a small smile on her face as if to ask him what he wanted to talk about.

When her professor tells her about an opportunity to earn more credit hours outside of school, she jumps to apply as an assistant of the astrophysicist, Jane Foster.

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A/N: Yes, thous is relatively short, but oh so much more to come. I need to blow your minds, now that I've committed myself to you all. Please Read, Review, or whatever ya do. (ha, I made a rhyme). I need to know what you think so I can know if I need to make changes, so this'll be a group effort, if you will. I love you all, even if you hate me.


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